


our teeth and wings

by caniculeo



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Biting, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Hoshihina Week, M/M, bird metaphors, more like fwb to lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-06
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:09:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26233216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caniculeo/pseuds/caniculeo
Summary: “You can bite me,” Hinata says. His smile is equal parts teasing and generous. “If you like.”hoshihina week day 7 - free prompt (bite)
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Hoshiumi Kourai
Comments: 14
Kudos: 200





	our teeth and wings

**Author's Note:**

> this took hold of my brain so quickly and intensely that i almost wrote it in a day (the day before hshn week started lol), and woke up at 6:45 the next day to finish it. hmm.  
> listening to sexy music is recommended for an optimal experience. i mostly listened to [bad things](https://open.spotify.com/track/1PSBzsahR2AKwLJgx8ehBj?si=ExTiB2jxRPyrpFcakXMyJg) and [bite](https://open.spotify.com/track/72mvdKU4Lw2737idPLKTjh?si=-2bIePKERtO0wl3qZ2xRxw).

“Hoshiumi-san.” 

Hinata’s breath is hot against Hoshiumi’s cheek. It is hard to think like this, with their limbs entangled, their bodies pressed so close together that they breathe the same air. Hoshiumi shudders, almost overcome. He feels like an animal, something more impulse than thought. 

“Hoshiumi-san,” Hinata begins again. His voice catches with pleasure as they move against each other.

“Yeah?” Hoshiumi manages.

“You can bite me,” Hinata says. His smile is equal parts teasing and generous. “If you like.”

Hoshiumi does like. He likes it very much, but he is hesitant, thinking about the remnants of the old mark he’d left on Hinata’s shoulder. After all, his teeth are sharp. Always have been. 

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Hoshiumi says, trying to keep his voice steady. 

Hinata’s smile widens. “You couldn’t hurt me,” he says.

Is this reassurance? A dare? Hoshiumi does not know, and in the heat of the moment, he does not care. When you are offered a gift like this, it is nothing less than foolish to refuse. So Hoshiumi puts his mouth on the juncture of Hinata’s neck and shoulder, as he’s done before. Tastes the salt there. Sinks his teeth into the skin. 

Hinata’s reaction is almost immediate. He gasps and throws his head back, tightening his hold on Hoshiumi’s shoulders. Falls apart, shuddering and with a cry. And Hoshiumi follows soon after, feeling Hinata under him and around him and beneath his teeth. 

When Hinata leaves Hoshiumi’s apartment, it is with a cheery farewell and a sizable bandage over the newly-blooming bruise near his neck. Hoshiumi feels a bit guilty when he looks at it, but also unbearably satisfied. 

Perhaps this is what it is to be a pervert. Part of him despairs: _where did I go wrong?_ The other part thinks about the red flush of Hinata’s cheeks, the teasing lilt in his voice. _You can bite me, if you like._

 _Well_ , Hoshiumi reflects, swiping a thumb across his canine. Maybe things aren’t all that bad.

Hoshiumi likes to think in goals, in dreams. Sometimes, it is the only way he can. And since he’s become so adept at making his dreams become reality, his thoughts concerning himself are now near-prophetic: _I will play volleyball professionally. I will gain two inches of vertical before the next season starts. I will wait for Hinata Shouyou._

He never thinks, _I will make out with Hinata in a bathroom stall at the after party of a match._ Nor does he think, _I will go home with Hinata and spend the entire night fucking him, then call him in the next five days and have him call me back in the next ten._ And perhaps most importantly of all, Hoshiumi never, ever thinks, _I will somehow have a thing for biting Hinata so hard he tears up._

And yet. And yet. 

It becomes regular, this nebulous thing between them. Hoshiumi doesn’t know how to define it, is more than certain that Hinata doesn't, either. He is unsure of where his admiration and fascination with Hinata Shouyou—opposite hitter, number twenty-one, all-rounder—ends, and his feelings for Hinata—bright, thoughtful, loud in bed—begins. Perhaps it doesn’t matter, because the longer he’s known Hinata, the more Hoshiumi is sure that there isn’t much difference. Not to him, anyways. 

It had been purely physical in the beginning, when he’d stolen a seat next to Hinata at the after party of their match, because Hinata is his rival and object of admiration and everything in between, and because it’s been six years and damned if he doesn’t deserve it. They’re loud together, especially after a few too many drinks, and Hinata had tilted his head and smiled in the way that makes people go crazy and said, _you know, it’s really good to see you again, Hoshiumi-san_ , had hooked Hoshiumi’s ankle under the table with his own. And, well. The rest is history, written with touch and breath and all those secret little things in the dark. 

But even then, this thing between them had never been simple. How could it be, after six years, after Hoshiumi becomes the face of Hinata’s first true defeat and Hinata becomes something for Hoshiumi to chase after? Half of their interactions are still tinged with good-natured competition, which they can’t seem to fuck out of each other. Not that Hoshiumi would have it any other way. 

Now, a few months later, the waters are murkier. The fog is heavier. Hoshiumi feels his heart stir. He is on the verge of falling, and still he does not know where they stand. 

“You’re quiet today, Hoshiumi-san.”

Well. Nobody’s really said that to Hoshiumi before. He turns to look at Hinata, whose eyes are wide, thoughtful. “Am I?”

Hinata nods, smiling. The sunlight filters through the trees above, dappling his hair with gold. “Are you tired?” he asks, stopping. “Should we go back?” 

“Tired?” Hoshiumi scoffs. He looks back at the mountain trail they’ve hiked. “You wish. Want me to give up so you can call this your win?”

Hinata’s grin is devilish, but he holds up his hands. “I was just asking!” he says. “Just in case, you know? Maybe the great Hoshiumi-san is a little off his game today, but won’t admit—”

Hoshiumi huffs, pushes Hinata gently. “Not a chance!” 

“I thought so,” Hinata says, laughing. He takes Hoshiumi’s hand, and Hoshiumi almost shivers with the ease of the action, the familiarity. “Come on, then. Let’s keep going! And you can tell me what you’re thinking so hard about.”

Hoshiumi lets Hinata lead him. _Us,_ he thinks. _I’m thinking about us_. “I’m not thinking about anything,” he says.

Hinata catches his eye, gives him that knowing little smile. “Sure,” he says. “I’ll tell you what _I’m_ thinking about, then.”

So he talks as they climb the mountain together, about everything and nothing in particular, and Hoshiumi listens. He has always been loud, even as a child, his voice a way to make himself bigger. Hinata, he thinks, is the same. But with each other, they can both be surprisingly quiet. Voices low, gentle. After all, they both only need for the other to hear, and nobody else. 

“Y-you weren’t lying,” Hinata says breathily a few hours later, after they’ve come down the mountain and made their way to his apartment, into his bed. 

“Lying?” Hoshiumi asks. His own breaths are short, his mind a haze of pleasure. He licks a stripe down Hinata’s neck, feeling Hinata shiver beneath him.

“You really—” Hinata laughs, pulling Hoshiumi closer to him so that their bodies are flush against each other. “You really aren’t tired.” 

“No,” Hoshiumi says, reaching between them to take Hinata in his hand. He grins, despite himself. “I’m not.”

Hinata’s back arches. “ _Hoshiumi-san_ ,” he whines, and tilts his head, exposing his neck.

Hoshiumi does not need further prompting. He leans down, and lets teeth meet skin. 

Hoshiumi knows: it is impossible to reach up and grab the sun. The only thing you can do is to grow your own wings—out of bone and feather and dreams and fears—and hurl yourself into the sky, towards the light and the warmth. And that’s what Hoshiumi’s been doing for almost his entire life, ever since he’d gone to his mother, biting his own lip so hard he tasted blood, on the verge of tears. Ever since she’d smiled at him and told him the secret to the entire universe: _you can be better._ Or, in other words: _here are your wings, Kourai. See them. Fly._

Learning to fly is a difficult business, defined by fear as much as it is by euphoria. You need to want the sky, the sun, the wind. You need to want it all the way down into the core of your hollow bones, until the fear of falling is worth it. And it’d taken some time, but Hoshiumi had done it. He’d spread his wings, beating them furiously, urging the downy feathers of youth to drift away in the wind. He’d leapt—fallen—into the firmament, let the wind carry him. Look at him, so high up that everyone looks small.

But this thing with Hinata has him here again, back on the ground. That’s the thing about being human, Hoshiumi supposes. Learning to fly isn’t a singular event—it’s something to be done again and again and again. At least he still has his wings. And his teeth, always itching to bite these days. 

Wings and teeth. What a strange animal he’s become. 

“Hinata Shouyou—”

Hoshiumi turns around to see Hirugami, who’s reading Hoshiumi’s phone screen over his shoulder. 

“God,” Hoshiumi says, putting his phone away. He’d been texting Hinata, and while it’s nothing explicit, it isn’t anything he wants Hirugami to see, either. “Just say hello next time, would you?”

“Are you still fixated on him?” Hirugami asks, teasing. He settles into the seat across from Hoshiumi. “Is it because he’s the only pro who’s at your eye level?”

Hoshiumi rolls his eyes. Eye level doesn’t quite matter when they’re horizontal most of the time. Not that Hirugami needs to know that.

“I’m not _fixated_ ,” he says. “I’m his friend.”

“You can be both,” Hirugami says. “I think you are.” 

“You think a lot of things,” Hoshiumi says. 

“A lot of them are right.”

“Not all of them.”

“Yeah, well.” _I’m right about this_. 

Hoshiumi shoves the menu at Hirugami. “It’s been a month since we’ve seen each other. Give me a _break_ , for heaven’s sake.”

“Alright, alright,” Hirugami says good-naturedly, and changes the subject to something less troublesome. 

The damage is done, though: Hoshiumi wonders. Fixation? That’s what it had been in the beginning—he won’t deny that. But it’s something else, now. He runs a hand through his hair, which is beginning to grow longer, soft and almost downy. Hinata likes to touch it, to pull on it if he’s feeling particularly energetic. Dominant. _Hoshiumi-san. Look at me._

It’s nice, Hoshiumi thinks. Maybe he’ll grow out his hair again. 

“What do you like so much about this?” Hinata asks, one day when they’re resting in bed. 

“About what?”

Hinata gestures to the bite on his shoulder, still fresh and dark red. “This.” He grins, like it’s a secret between them. It is, kind of. “Do you like the actual biting part, or do you like that you’ve made a mark?”

Hoshiumi feels himself blush a little. They’ve never really talked about this. “I don’t know,” he says. He doesn’t quite understand it himself. “I never really liked it. Until you.” The first time had been an accident—he’d been caught up in the intensity of his climax, trying to muffle the sound in his throat.

Hinata’s grin widens. He’s obviously satisfied, pleased. “Good,” he announces, laying his head on Hoshiumi’s chest. The weight of him is warm. 

“What’s good about it?” Hoshiumi says, huffing. He reaches out to stroke Hinata’s hair. “You’re making me a pervert.”

“What’s wrong with that?” Hinata asks, shifting to meet his gaze. “You’re making me one, too. Since I like it.”

Hoshiumi laughs. “Does that make it better?”

“I think so,” Hinata says. He smiles, teasing. As if to say, _look at us both._ As if to say, _we’re the same, you and I._

Birds of a feather. It’s a comforting thought. Hoshiumi smiles, and they fall asleep like that, entwined. 

These days, all Hinata has to do is tilt his head silently with that look in his eyes, and Hoshiumi will understand. _Come. Use your teeth. Come._ And who is he to disobey? 

They don’t actually see each other all that often, thanks to conflicting schedules and the misfortunes of the universe. If they did, Hoshiumi would probably have to hold back a little with the biting. But as it is, it’s fine to do it whenever they meet. Things actually feel lacking without it. 

They are apart for Hoshiumi’s birthday, but when Hoshiumi gets home, he receives a package in the mail. It contains an expensive water bottle, a card, and a toothbrush. Hoshiumi laughs.

 _Happy Birthday, Hoshiumi-san!_ the card reads, in Hinata’s messy handwriting. _You can bring this water bottle the next time we go hiking. Hope you like the toothbrush. It’s not very expensive, but I thought it’d be funny._ A scribbled little smiley face, complete with fangs. _Have a nice day. And night. Think of me, okay?_

Hinata doesn’t have to ask. Hoshiumi doesn’t think of much else lately. 

Hinata’s birthday has Hoshiumi seeking out Kageyama for advice, which is something he’d never quite thought he would do. Volleyball matters aside, that is.

“Hinata,” Hoshiumi begins. “What does he like?”

“Volleyball,” Kageyama responds, almost immediately.

“I know _that_ ,” Hoshiumi says, sighing. “Other things, I mean.”

Kageyama shrugs. “Food. Winning. Egg and rice.” He looks up to meet Hoshiumi’s eyes. “You.” 

“What?”

“You,” Kageyama says again. “He talks about you a lot. It’s getting a little annoying.” He frowns, thinking. “You’ve been together for pretty long.”

 _We’re not together,_ Hoshiumi wants to say, but doesn’t. Not that Kageyama would be interested in the intricacies of his and Hinata’s relationship, anyways. “Only a couple of months.”

“More than half a year,” Kageyama corrects him. “That’s long for Hinata.”

Hoshiumi blinks. “Is it?”

“Well,” Kageyama says. He looks suddenly regretful, as if realizing he probably shouldn’t have spilled his best friend’s dating habits to the guy he’s currently seeing. “Kind of. He doesn’t—tend to stay.”

“Oh,” Hoshiumi says.

Kageyama shakes his head. “Sorry,” he says. Hoshiumi’s not sure if he’s apologizing to Hinata or to him. “I shouldn’t have—”

“No,” Hoshiumi says, “it’s okay. I get it.”

Kageyama meets his eyes. “He really does like you,” he says. “A lot.”

 _For how long?_ Hoshiumi wants to ask, but he doesn’t. He just nods, pats Kageyama on the shoulder. “Thanks, Kageyama.”

They see each other a little after Hinata’s birthday. In the end, Hoshiumi had settled on a nice backpack. And a box of bandages. Hinata had laughed, had appreciated them both: _thanks, Hoshiumi-san_! But even Hinata’s laughter cannot pull Hoshiumi out of his own thoughts. 

So they have an expiration date. Of course they do. For all that he’s been careful not to cross the line, Hoshiumi had taken for granted the length of their relationship, had unconsciously thought that this would go on indefinitely. But that’s stupid. Of course it’s stupid. 

_When do we end_? Hoshiumi wants to ask Hinata. He cannot stop thinking about it, even when they are in bed, and Hinata tilts his head just so. Hoshiumi’s mouth waters, but for some reason, he cannot bring himself to bite. Hinata meets his eyes, puzzled, brings a hand to the back of Hoshiumi’s head and gives him the gentle suggestion of a push downward. Still, Hoshiumi does not bite, and Hinata’s hand falls. 

They spend themselves, breathing heavily. Hoshiumi rolls off of Hinata—he feels like a fresh wound. They are quiet for a moment. Just lying there.

“Why didn’t you bite me?” Hinata finally asks. His voice is low. 

“I just—I didn’t feel like it,” Hoshiumi says. He blinks, surprised that Hinata actually would raise an objection. “Are you upset?”

“I’m not,” Hinata says, getting up. He’s lying. Hoshiumi can read his unhappiness in every line of his body. 

“Why are you mad?” Hoshiumi asks, feeling a little hostile too. It’s mostly towards the Hinata in his head who’s left him already, but it comes out all the same. “It’s just—it’s just—” Just what? A ritual? Hoshiumi doesn’t even know.

“I’m not _mad_ ,” Hinata says, and it’s amazing how quiet he is in his anger. “It would be stupid to be mad about this.”

“It would be,” Hoshiumi says, cruel, and Hinata bites his lip. 

They clean up in silence, though they both still help wash each other’s hair, an old habit. It’s a way to apologize too, as their anger wears off. By the time Hoshiumi is ready to leave, regret pools heavy in his stomach. 

He turns back at the doorway. “I’m sorry,” he says. 

Hinata sighs, comes close to him as if pulled in by gravity. They hold each other, gentle. “It’s okay,” Hinata says, resting his head on Hoshiumi’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, too. I wasn’t being fair. Don’t do what you don’t feel like doing.”

Hoshiumi swallows. It’d be hard to tell Hinata now that he _had_ felt like it, still wants to do it so much that his teeth itch. But he’d been afraid. He’d realized the open vulnerability in the act, and turned away from the sky. Though maybe that’s what Hinata is talking about. 

“It’s alright,” he says. “I know.”

Hinata straightens up so that they are nose to nose. Eye level with each other. Maybe Hirugami was right, Hoshiumi thinks. It is so easy for him to look Hinata in the eye, to know that everything about them is nearly aligned: eyes, hands, heart. 

Hinata leans forward and kisses him, sweet and gentle. Hoshiumi reciprocates, a little taken by surprise but gratified nonetheless. They don’t kiss very often, perhaps because of the uncertainty of their relationship, but it’s always nice when they do. Hoshiumi parts his lips to let Hinata lick inside his mouth, to let him run his tongue over the sharp ridges and valleys of his teeth. When they break apart, he chases after Hinata’s mouth just slightly, unashamed.

“I’ll see you later, Hoshiumi-san,” Hinata says, with a slight smile. Bittersweet. 

“Yeah,” Hoshiumi says. His voice is a little hoarse. “See you later.” 

When he is home, he thinks for a long time. About Hinata, about himself, about the sport that’d brought them together. About teeth and wings. About the sky that is worth every fall, every broken bone. 

Hoshiumi thinks, _next time I see Hinata, I’m going to do what I need to do._

They meet again soon after that, falling into bed like they usually do. Hoshiumi doesn’t lose his nerve this time. He gives into himself, sinking his teeth into Hinata’s skin, hearing him sigh in pleasure and satisfaction. Afterwards, they clean up with each other. Get dressed. Sit next to each other on the couch, content. 

The words come to Hoshiumi naturally. “What do you want out of us, Hinata?” he asks. Testing the wind. Beating his wings, still grounded. 

Hinata does not startle at the question. He straightens up, touches the bite mark on his skin with near-reverence. “Whatever you want, Hoshiumi-san,” he says. He sounds as if he is choosing his words. “Whatever you want to give.”

A moment of silence. The bird pushes off the ground for the first time. Falls headfirst into the sky and prays that it is enough. “I’m in love with you,” Hoshiumi finally says. He cannot stop himself. 

Hinata blinks. And then he begins to smile, ebullient. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. That’s alright, isn’t it?”

“I think so.” Hoshiumi pauses. The bird is still falling into the sky. Will it keep falling? Will it soar? “What about you?”

Hinata’s smile widens until he is grinning. Up close, Hoshiumi realizes that Hinata’s teeth are pretty sharp, too. 

“Hoshiumi-san,” Hinata says. “Turn your head a little.”

Hoshiumi obeys, unable to resist even if he wanted to. He feels Hinata’s movement before he catches it in the corner of his eye. Hinata’s hands coming to rest on Hoshiumi’s back. His mouth on Hoshiumi’s skin between shoulder and neck. His teeth, gentle at first and then forceful, vicelike. 

The pain—exhilaration, pleasure—is enough to knock the breath out of Hoshiumi’s lungs. He wants it to stop. He wants it to never end. Mostly, he just wants, with every beat of his heart, every bone in his body. Eventually, Hinata’s hold loosens, his teeth gentling. He laves the mark with his tongue: once, twice. And then he straightens up, looking very self-satisfied. Hoshiumi blinks. Is this what he looks like afterwards, too?

Hinata is still smiling. Cheeky, bright. “Does that answer your question, Hoshiumi-san?” he asks. 

Hoshiumi cannot look away from him. They gaze at each other, two strange birds with wings for flying, teeth for biting. Monsters, in some people’s eyes. In each other’s, simply kindred. 

Hoshiumi’s heart takes flight. “Yeah,” he says. He feels himself smile. The bite on his shoulder stings beautifully. “Yeah, it does.”

**Author's Note:**

> sorry for being so h word. i don't know. i really don't. not saying this is kat's fault but also not saying it's not. please join me in hoshihina hell. 
> 
> thank you for reading. love you all!


End file.
